(A little I’m-not-sure-what-this-is [free-form poem?] about Nutella)
Decadent, nutty chocolatey-ness.
Smooth and rich and great by itself, with fruit, or spread on a cracker.
Guiltily licking the spoon clean.
I see the results on my hips.
Rolls and jiggles on my sides.
Granny flaps on my arms.
The pooch on my belly grows a little bigger.
And yet I keep going back for more, until the jar is scraped clean.
I have to slap myself whenever I start reaching for it on the grocery store shelf.
Curse you, Nutella!